


House Sitting

by bigbbygrl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s15e13 Destiny's Child, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Making Out in the Impala (Supernatural), Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Mild Smut, Non-Binary Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29579541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbbygrl/pseuds/bigbbygrl
Summary: Sam and Dean entrust the bunker's well-being to their alternate reality selves. These new Winchesters decide to entertain themselves.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/HunterCorp Sam Winchester, HunterCorp Dean Winchester/HunterCorp Sam Winchester, HunterCorp Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 3





	House Sitting

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean tugs at his flannel, trying to adjust the scratchy fabric laying against his skin. He still doesn’t understand why he had to change, after all, there was no way these other Sam and Deans actually wore this crap. The beer was growing on him, however, despite his complaints. Other than that, he kept mostly quiet about his discomfort, after all, Sam was always the fussy one. He looks over to his little brother, who was also trying to adjust their clothes. Sam scoffs and slams a hand down on the table in the room they are getting changed in.

“This is ridiculous Dean.”

“You’re telling me,” Dean sighed. 

“No, I mean, yes, the clothes the-- food? Don’t get me started. But no, it’s those two.”

“What do you mean?” Dean pressed. 

“They’re so… Macho? Er...” Sam sighs and waves their hand, trying to summon up the right words. 

“Repressed?” Dean suggests after pondering for a moment.

“Yes! And, don’t get me wrong, we went through our fair share of that, what with dad being there and all--”

“But their dad isn’t even alive.”

“Exactly. Why do they feel the need to hide what they- what we- are to each other?” Sam asks. 

Dean has to think about this for a while. Sure, him and Sam didn’t have a normal relationship per se, and they knew that they would be scorned for it back in their universe, but if dad really wasn’t able to cross over, then there was no reason to hide. Maybe they just hadn’t realized their feelings? But, god it was so obvious! Dean opened his mouth, about to voice his thoughts, when there was a knock at the door.

“Hurry the fuck up! How long does a simple change of clothes take?” He hears his own voice (a little more gruff and deeper) bellow through the door.

“We’re done!” Sam says back loudly. Sam doesn’t scream. Unless he’s in bed. Damn, Dean should really get that image out of his head before he walks out of the room. He pulls Sam down roughly for a passionate kiss. He starts to pull away right as the other Dean bursts through the door, but Sam grips his ass and tugs their bodies together, sending a spike of heat and pleasure down Dean’s spine. He moans into the kiss, but shoves Sam away. Sam whimpers a little at the loss of Dean’s lips and heat, and drags their fingers across their brother’s neck.

“What. The. Fuck.” The other Dean growled, face turning beet red. Dean smirks, and slides out the door, Sam on his heels. He hears Sam slap other Dean’s ass and laughs as his clone yelps and splutters. Even if it’s his face, this other him is incredibly entertaining to piss off. The other Sam however… Goddamn.  
“What’s going on?” The Sam clone plunders down the hall, floppy hair and all. Their (his? Dean heard the other Dean refer to him as such, so that’s what he’ll stick with) eyebrows are knitted in a mix of worry and amusement, and Dean can’t take his eyes off of that mouth. Fuck, the things he could do…

“Ow!” His Sammy slaps his arm and glares at him, somehow able to sense exactly what he was thinking. He feels annoyed for a second, because Sam just slapped the other Dean’s ass, but he let’s it go. After all, possessive Sam is kinda hot, and he hasn’t seen that for a while, so he just smiles.

“Why don’t you go ask big brother over there?” Dean drawls, making his Sam flinch. That was always a turn-on for Sam. Dean doesn’t understand it, but if it does it for Sam…

“What?” The other Sam looks even more confused and walks over towards the room where the other Dean was standing. They talk in hushed tones and Dean storms off, leaving Sam incredibly confused and walking towards them. “What happened?”

Dean looks at Sammy right as he looks at Dean, and they both shrug. Yeah, it’ll be fun to mess with these two. 

The alternate Sam and Dean finally collect themselves and set out to leave the bunker, all the while getting death glares from the Dean clone. Other Sam is already out the door when Dean is stopped by himself. His clone looks at him with ice in his eyes, and pitches his voice down low. He recognizes that as his own tactic to seem more intimidating, and smirks. That won’t scare him.

“Hey, don’t be doing that shit in my home.” Dean’s clone growls at him.

“Hm. Yes, alright.”

“No, no, no, that’s not gonna cut it, I know that tone. Just-- just don’t do anything, capiche?”

“You mean,” Dean lowers his head and puts a hand on his clone’s shoulder, “We can’t have hardcore sex in the library?”

“Fucking-- No.” He hisses back, mimicking the ‘lowered-head’ stance. Clearly something that they both do, as if it will make the other person listen better or something. “Don’t have sex anywhere! He’s your freakin’ brother man!”

“Oh really?” Dean asks, summoning his best bitchface (Sam was always better at it though), hoping that would piss him off even more. This was fun. “I didn’t realize.”

“Just-- God is watching,” The alternate Dean barks as he finally steps out of the bunker. Dean just laughs and heads back to Sam. His Sam. God, this was hurting his head.

__________

After a few hours of just chatting, and trying to get Sam to lose the man-bun, the two of them started to get a little bit bored. Is this really all they do? Just sit around and drink and watch porn? Dean thought he would enjoy it, and he did, for the first couple hours. Sam decided to ban the porn after Dean had commented on one of the ladies being very-- ahem-- well endowed. Anyways, Dean was getting a little testy, and Sam was doing that thing where they pick up random stuff and mess with it. The ADHD bastard. Dean swats the bejeweled knife out of Sam’s hand after they accidently nicks themself with it. 

“Dean, this is getting really… Boring.” 

“Yes…” Dean sighs and stands up, “I’m going to explore.”

“Explore? The bunker? I don’t think we should.”

“Why not?”

“Well for one,” Sam sighs, “I don’t think they would be exploring their own home. We’re supposed to be acting like them, right?”

“We’ll pretend we’re cleaning or something. I don’t know,” Dean looks longingly down the hallway, and turns to Sam. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Samuel,” He says firmly, ordering Sam to follow him when he doesn’t get up from his chair. At the order, they reluctantly rise from their seat and trudges after Dean. 

The first few rooms they explore are pretty much empty. Just a bunch of unused rooms and sleeping quarters, but they finally came across the jackpot. Sam’s and Dean’s respective rooms. Number 11 and 21. Other Sam’s room wasn’t all that interesting, just a bed, a television, and a shit-ton of books. Eh, on brand, Dean supposes. But the other Dean’s room… Oh ho ho, that’s where the good stuff was. Guns and blades lined the walls, clothes scattered about (eh, also on brand), but what really caught Dean’s eye, was the old stereo system in the corner, along with a big old pile of vinyls. Of course, Sam, the nerd that they are, went directly for the typewriter sitting on the desk, tapping at the keys, and making it chime.

Dean picks up a vinyl, and moves so that his body is covering what he’s doing from Sam’s line of sight, although, it probably wouldn’t have mattered with how engrossed they are by the writing machine. He flips through the tens of vinyls, some look new while others look like they might’ve been here when the bunker was first made. He shuffles through them until he is stopped by a piece of paper separating a small stack of singles from the rest. He smirks at the carefully drawn heart, and isn’t all that surprised at the first track. He pulls the record out of it’s time-worn sleeve and puts it on the turntable. He’s never worked one before, but tinkers around until the first few notes of Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka comes spilling out of the old speakers.

Sam’s head immediately snaps up at the sound and their eyes become comically large as Dean spins away from the stereo system, holding a hand out to Sam as he slightly bows.

“May I have this dance?” He asks gently. He knows he asked the right thing as Sammy’s eyes light up and they bounce over. Sam was never a graceful person, neither was Dean, but dancing was always one of those things that, while a secret kept between them, was always something special. He remembers the first time they danced together...

Dean straightens Sam’s tie and pats his chest. It’s Sam’s senior year and he’s going to prom. He didn’t really want to go, but dad had pushed, said he would regret it if he didn’t go and that “you can’t just hang out with Dean all the time. Go get some friends, maybe a girl.” The thing was, Sam didn’t want friends or a girl, he was happy just hanging out with Dean. But, dad’s word was law, so Sam found himself getting ready to go to prom with a girl he barely knew and Dean couldn’t even remember the name of. Sam chuckles and Dean glances at him questioningly, but lets it go.

Dad drives him, which sucks. Dean is left at home all by himself. He can practically hear the awkwardness as dad finally comes back home, and laughs to himself at how horrible that must have been for the man. Dean decides not to press his father for information. He’ll probably just get mad. 

It’s not until a few hours later that he gets a phone call from a frantic Sammy, begging him to come to the school to pick him up. Dean is out the door in two seconds flat. 

He’s a little fuzzy on the details, something about Sam accidentally tripping a girl and he was embarrassed. Dean laughs and Sam swats him, telling him it’s not funny. Dean takes him to get burgers to console him. After eating and just sitting with each other Sam slowly speaks up again.

“That wasn’t what happened,” Sam mumbles.

“What?”

“That wasn’t why I asked you to pick me up. My friends, uh, wanted me to go to an after-party. They were gonna go drinking and-- and I got scared. All I could think of is what dad would do if he found out and-- and I-- I said you were coming to get me cause I didn’t finish my homework.” Sam waits for Dean to laugh, but it doesn’t come.

“Oh…. That’s okay Sammy. You’re right, dad would’ve been pissed as hell.” Dean nods, as if agreeing to his own statement. After all, he remembers when he went to a party in senior year. Dad somehow caught him and he was grounded for a month. He wasn’t even allowed to talk to Sammy, which was the only way John knew how to punish the boys. Sam looks up at him in shock, and Dean smiles.

“It’s just a shame you didn’t get to finish your dance,” Dean drawls. Sam shrugs and Dean turns the radio up, stepping out of the car into the cold parking lot. It was January and fucking cold out, but that didn’t stop Dean. He started prancing around the parking lot until Sam joined him. They turned the radio up as loud as it would go and danced their hearts out in the January cold...

As Sam takes his hand, Dean raises it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss against their knuckles. He looks up at Sam's sappy face and leads them to the center of the room. The room is very small, and they only really have room to slowly spin and rock together, but it’s nice all the same. When the record runs to its end, Dean goes over to put on another one. Fly Me To The Moon by Frank Sinatra comes billowing out of the speakers, and Sam laughs and starts moving to the beat. 

“I thought you didn’t like Sinatra?” Sam asks as Dean comes up behind them, wrapping his arms around their middle.

“More of a Dean Martin fan but, what can I say? This song is undeniably good.”

“No argument there,” Sam chuckles as they start to sway their hips, brushing against each other. Dean kisses Sam’s shoulder and spins them around until they’re facing one another. He caresses Sam’s cheek and kisses their lips softly.

“Goddamn beautiful,” he mumbles, drawing a laugh from Sam. 

“Could say the same thing to you gorgeous,” Sam whispers before kissing him deeper. The record stops, making Dean draw away from the kiss to turn off the stereo. They had more important things to do. He hooks his fingers into Sam’s borrowed jeans and tugs.

“What, you don’t wanna fuck me to a soundtrack?” Sam teases.

“Next time, yeah? Don’t wanna have to wait to pick out the right songs. I’ll put something together for next time…” He trails off as Sam’s hands find their way under his shirt, stroking and the skin right above his waist band.

“Agreed,” Sam murmurs as they press themself closer, “It’s been too long already…”

Dean pushes Sam backwards until Sam’s legs hit the bed, and they let themself fall down onto their back. Dean drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, falling to the floor in front of Sam. Sam tries to sit up, but Dean just pushes them back down, thumbing the button of their borrowed jeans open and sliding them off of his younger lover’s legs, along with their underwear. Sam uses their feet to pry the flannel off of Dean’s shoulders until he gets the message, pulling himself free of his clothes. Sitting up for a moment, Sam does the same. Pulling Sam’s legs apart, Dean ducks down, hiking Sam’s thighs up to rest on his shoulders. He feels Sam shudder and grip at the bed covers.

“What do you need, Sammy?” Dean hums as he starts to lick at his fingers.

“Fucking hell Dean, I just want you to fuck me. Now. Please Dean just hhhnnn…” Sam’s voice trails off into a whine as Dean’s wetted index finger presses at Sam’s entrance. Sam opens up immediately, the action seemingly ingrained in their body. 

“That’s it baby,” Dean whispered against Sam’s thigh. 

“Dean please, just--” Sam stutters after several minutes of Dean slowly opening them up.

“Okay, okay,” Dean chuckles low in his throat as he spits into his hand and slicks himself up, slowly pressing into his moaning lover.

“Uhn, love you De,” Sam moans as Dean sinks into them.

“Love you, Sammy.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean yawns as he wakes up, raising one hand to rub at his blurry, sleep-filled eyes. He feels Sam’s warmth pressing against his bare chest and smiles, kissing the back of his brother’s neck. Sam sniffs and shifts around, wiggling and turning until they’re facing Dean.

“Good morning,” Sam mumbles.

“‘Morning. I think,” Dean chuckles in reply, really not sure what time it was. He brushes Sam’s hair behind their ear. It had come out of the bun Sam had put it in last night as they writhed together on the bed. Dean smiles at the memory.

Oh fuck.

“What?” Sam questions as they read Dean’s troubled expression.

“This isn’t our bed.”

“Yes. No shit.” Sam huffs a laugh and slowly rises, stretching their arms above their head, then leaning forward to touch their toes, groaning. Dean finally gets his bearings and sighs.

“You gotta stop, you're getting me all riled up,” Dean teases as Sam moans.

“You know,” Sam says as they continue their morning stretch, “I wouldn’t have to do this if you didn’t completely destroy my back last night.”

“You were begging for it, bitch,” Dean scoffs. 

“Yeah,” Sam says, smirking at Dean, “I was. And you delivered, let me tell you.”

Dean smiles wider as Sam swings their legs off of the bed and stands up. His eyes trail over his brother’s form as Sam softs through the dresser in the room, pulling out a random t-shirt and boxers. They pull them on, and they’re way too small, but Dean enjoys the view anyways. Sam scoffs at the ill-fitting clothes and pulls on the jeans that they were told to wear. There was something about the jeans with the near skin-tight t-shirt stretched over Sam’s chest that made Dean moan a little. 

“Get up,” Sam laughs, throwing clothes his way. Sam picks up the flannel that they were wearing yesterday but Dean has other ideas.

“No,” He tells Sam, “You should just wear the tee.”

Sam smirks and flexes their pecs a little, chuckling at Dean’s appreciative expression. Sam tells him to get up again and trots out of the room. Dean sighs and hoists himself from the cozy warmth. He throws on the clothes that he was wearing yesterday and follows Sam, not bothering to fix up the bed.

Sam is in the kitchen when Dean finds them, fixing something up on the stove. They have their hair back in a man-bun again.

“Hey,” Dean says, coming up behind his brother and wrapping his arms around their waist.

“Hey to you too,” Sam laughs. He’s cooking scrambled eggs and sausage. Dean reaches up to tilt Sam’s face towards him, analyzing their facial expression.

“What’s wrong, Sammy?” Dean questions, immediately aware of the weird look on his brother’s face.

“Nothing just… It’s stupid. Thinking about dad,” Sam sighs. Dean hums against their shoulder. “I mean, you think he’s okay? Did he even make it through? He could be d-dead.” 

“Sammy,” Dean strokes their hair, trying to sooth them. “It’s dad. He’s not dead. We’ll find him. And if he’s trapped like we were, we’ll get him out, okay?”

“Okay De,” Sam mumbles. He lets out a laugh and leans back against Dean.

“What?”

“It feels like college. Remember? When we lived alone together in that horrible apartment until dad started sending us money?” Sam chuckles again, but Dean shakes his head, trying to remember the good times without that disgusting apartment crossing his mind. Sam laughs again. “We’ve come pretty far, huh?”

“Yeah, we have.”

“God, we were stupid,” Sam chuckles.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Dean agrees. Sam turns off the burner and shakes Dean off as they plate up breakfast. They pull out their respective chairs on the same side of the table (force of habit) and sit down, tucking into breakfast, both brothers silently reminiscing.

Sam chuckles and Dean snaps out of his daydream. He probably has a big goofy smile on his face. Sam doesn’t say anything though, just smiles back. Dean rolls his eyes, but kisses Sam anyways. 

The rest of the day is fairly uneventful. Again. But this time Dean goes to explore the garage. It’s full of vintage cars, and even an old motorbike, but the thing that catches Dean’s eye is the Impala. He trails his fingers along the sleek black build and finds himself getting very excited. He calls Sam’s name as he runs around the bunker, trying to find the keys and his brother. He eventually finds both in the other Dean’s room. Sam is sorting through all the vinyls, and the keys are lying on the nightstand. Dean snatches them up and taps Sam’s shoulder.

“Wanna go for a ride?” Dean drawls, leaving without waiting for an answer. He hears Sam scrambling to catch up with him. He finds his way back to the garage, Sam at his heels, and steps up to the Impala, caressing her glorious body work.

“Please don’t make me jealous over a car,” Sam whines as Dean unlocks the driver’s side.

“Don’t worry, nothing can replace you, no matter how gorgeous,” Dean slides in the driver’s seat, ignoring the glare Sam sends his way. He reaches over and unlocks the passenger door, motioning for Sam to get in.

“No thanks, that thing looks like a rolling death-trap. It probably doesn’t have any of the safety features our car has, and we both know how you drive.” Sam huffs from outside the car. Dean groans.

“Come on, Samuel. Or I’m leaving you behind.” Dean threatens. Sam shifts from foot to foot, but eventually opens the door, sliding into the passenger seat. “That’s it baby.”

Dean starts up the car and revs the engine, laughing to himself. Of course Sam would be worried about the safety of the damn thing. He pulls out of the garage and they hit the road. Dean makes sure to remember each road they take so they can find their way back. He rolls the windows down and whoops as the wind rushes through his short-cropped hair. He looks over to see Sam pouting in the passenger seat. 

“What’s wrong? Jealous of the car?” Dean is mostly joking, but when he looks over and sees the blush making its way up Sam’s cheeks, he gapes. “No way.”

“Dean, please. I’m not jealous of a car.” Sam huffs, turning away to hide their reddening face. Dean smirks.

“Whatever you say. I mean, I was going to show you how not jealous you have to be, but that can wait I suppose.” Dean can feel Sam turning to look at him, and smiles, counting to three before Sam speaks up.

“Okay. I am jealous. A little. But only because it makes you so happy. I wish-- WOAH!” Sam gets cut off, gasping as Dean wrenches the car to the side of the road, slamming it into park before leaning over and capturing Sam’s lips in a heated kiss.

“Nothing makes me as happy as you, baby,” Dean whispers against Sam’s lips, “You know that.”

The leather creaks under Sam as they shift closer to Dean, closing their eyes and humming approval of the turn this trip took. Dean nips at Sam’s bottom lip, tongue skirting across the seam. Sam opens their mouth wider and moves closer to Dean, whimpering for more. Dean chuckles lowly, pulling away, and nudges at Sam’s jaw with his nose. Sam smiles and opens his eyes, waiting for the command they are certain is about to come.

“Get in the back,” Dean growls. 

“Yes sir,” Sam purrs in reply. Dean moans and throws open his door to get in the back. Sam decides to take the quicker route and climbs over the back of the seat, rolling not-so-gracefully into the back. There is a little more space, although not much. And it isn’t a matter of width, mostly length, so Sam’s legs are still bent up until Dean wrenches the door open. Sam’s legs fall out as Dean climbs in.

“Hmm… Yeah baby,” Dean murmurs nonsense as he grinds down onto Sam, drawing sweet sounds from their mouth. 

“D-De, we can’t. Not in their car. Not all the way,” Sam stutters as their big brother starts trailing kisses down their neck, nipping at the skin. 

“Okay. We won’t. Not all the way.” Dean moves his hips and grinds down against Sam again, hissing as the cold bite of the jean zipper presses on him. Sam seems to take a hint and slowly thumbs Dean’s button open, pulling down the zipper. They feel as each tooth of the metal comes loose, revelling in the anticipation. Dean takes the opposite approach with Sam, however, and is pulling Sam’s jeans and boxers down in two seconds flat. 

“Why do they wear this stuff?” Dean huffs frustratedly, “So inconvenient.”

“Hm, I dunno,” Sam hums, still taking their sweet time getting at Dean. Dean looks at Sam’s face and hums appreciatively at the blissed-out look on their face. 

Sam finally pulls Dean’s dick out of his boxers and jacks it slowly, swiping their thumb across the tip. Dean moans loudly and does the same to Sam. Sam whines and grips the back for Dean’s head, tugging him down for a heated kiss. Dean smirks into it, raising his hand and gathering a handful of Sam’s hair. They whimper, the sound turning into a loud moan as Dean tugs on the locks viciously. He kisses Sam deeply, capturing all those lovely sounds with his own mouth. 

After a few minutes Dean feels the familiar heat building at the base of his spine. Sweat drips from his forehead as he pumps his hips in the awkward position. He pants and growls, unable to find the right position. Sam swats Dean’s hand away and wraps their own around the both of them, pumping his fist harder. Dean uses his free hand to hold himself up, and ruts against Sam’s hand jacking both of them at once. Sam’s other hand falls from Dean’s neck to slide down the barely-on jeans. Sam digs his nails into the flesh of their brother’s ass, tipping Dean over the edge. The low growling sound he makes is more than enough to drag Sam over with him. 

Dean is shaking as he pants and collapses onto Sam, not bothering to care about the mess between them. Sam smiles and rakes their nails up Dean’s back, making him shiver almost violently in Sam’s embrace. The reaction pulls a chuckle from Sam, and a scoff from Dean. 

“Oh god, we’re gonna have to drive back,” Dean whines, gripping Sam tighter.

“I call shotgun,” Sam whispers in Dean’s ear, eliciting another shiver. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days went by in a very similar fashion. Eat, sleep, fuck, repeat. Sam slept half the time, and when they weren't doing one of the aforementioned, they normally had their nose in a book. Dean was a big fan of exploring every inch of the bunker, and had spent the last few days meticulously going through each room and finding all the fun hidey-holes. Both of them were starting to get a little worried after the fourth day with no contact with their clones, but they definitely put the nervous energy to use. 

On the fifth day was when the other boys finally came back to the bunker. Dean’s clone bursts through the door, duffles piled on his shoulders, and storms down the hallway. The other Sam is on his tail, but much more graceful about it. Dean and Sam, who are sitting at the table, share an amused glance. 

“Change into your own clothes. Time to go,” Dean barks out as he passes by the duo. 

“Welcome home, dick,” Dean mumbles, making Sam snort a laugh.

They go change and get ready to leave as the Winchester doppelgangers go about their day, putting everything away from their recent hunt, or whatever it was they were doing. Sam is pretty relieved to have their old clothes back, but Dean is a little hesitant. He’s never gone with only one outfit before, and their clothes aren’t exactly considered normal in this world. At least, as far as he knows. But alas, there’s nothing to be done about it. The other Dean seems in kind of a pissy mood, so he isn’t about to cross him. He looks over at Sam, eyeing them hungrily as they tug their suit back on, but his attention is drawn away at the quick rap on the door.

“Hey, uh, guys?” The Sam twin comes into the room, closing the door behind him. Dean looks him up and down, ready for a stern talking to, but he supposes that’s more Dean’s style, because as Sam speaks, he addresses them politely. “Can I, uh, talk to you for a second? Just Dean?”

“Why?” Sam snaps. There’s Dean’s jealous lover. He smirks, but gives Sam a bitchface.

“Oh, uh,” The other Sam stutters, “I just wanted to ask a few questions. If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Dean says, smirking at his Sam, “Sammy, babe, why don’t you go talk to the other Dean? He seems… Charming.”

Sam huffs, but they leave the room anyway, giving the alternate Sam a quick look up and down before sneering and scampering off. Dean smiles at their antics and turns to the other Sam, ready for the questioning that he seems ready to give.

“So,” Sam begins, “I-- you, uh, called him babe?”

“Them. I called them babe. They aren’t a ‘he’. What of it?” Dean says. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t know. I kind of just figured we were the same.”

“So you go by he/him?”

“Yeah. Even if I didn’t it wouldn’t really matter. Dean can be… Well, he’d try his best, but I don’t think he’d really understand.”

“I know how that goes. Dad wasn’t super happy about it when we came out.”

“Wait, ‘we’? Both of you?”

“Well, sort of. I’m Pan, and Sammy is Demi and non-binary. It’s fairly normal back in our world, but there are still some issues. I take it, it's even worse here.”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles, “It’s pretty bad in some places. Anyways, it doesn’t matter. I want to know-- Are you two, like, together?”

“Me and Sammy? Yep. This March will be our ten-year anniversary. Things started before that, but you know how-- well, you, can be. They like to make things all official.”

“Damn,” Sam sighs, “So… What about dad? Does he know?”

“If he did he never says anything,” Dean shrugs, “We kept it under wraps for as long as possible, and he hasn’t disowned us yet, so I don’t think so. But not having him here… I miss him, don’t get me wrong, but… It’s been nice not having to hide, you know?”

“I bet.”

“You two though, you don’t have your dad. Why haven’t you two gotten together?”

“I’m not sure,” Sam looks at his feet in disappointment, “I think it’s mostly Dean. But I haven’t exactly been open about my feelings either. I mean, it’s always been there, I just… I’ve been keeping it locked down for so long, and I’ve made so many mistakes… I can’t have Dean leave me because of something so unimportant.”

“Unimportant?” Dean scoffs, “Who said your feelings were unimportant? And I’ve seen the way he-- I-- whatever-- looks at you. You are the only thing he cares about. Without you, he’s nothing, believe me. I’ve tried to stuff it down. I kept telling myself it was wrong, and disgusting, and unnatural… But the thing is, they make me the happiest man on earth, and we would die for each other. I’m sure you feel the same way.”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” Sam clears his throat and takes a deep breath, his tell-tale sign of trying to keep it together. Dean smiles, and feels bad for the poor kid. He’s been so oppressed his entire life, and Dean just wants to stick around and fix it. 

“Come here,” Dean says to Sam, arm outstretched.

“What?” Sam asks suspiciously, slowly walking towards him step by step. 

“I wanna give you something. So you can see what you’re missing.” Dean pulls Sam closer and closes the distance between them. 

He can feel Sam’s panicked breathing as he raises his right hand to Sam’s cheek, gently pulling him down the few inches between them. He presses his lips softly against Sam’s, pulling a small squeak of surprise from the other man. He chuckles, smiling against his mouth, as his left hand finds its way to Sam’s hip, clutching tightly before going in for a more heated kiss. It is weird, kissing Sam without actually kissing Sam, but something about it makes Dean’s heart race, making him slightly disappointed as he pulls away. 

“Wha-- what was that for?” Sam huffs out between flustered breaths. 

“Think of it as a parting gift,” Dean laughs, “Now help me find my Sammy. I need to kiss them in like, t-minus ten seconds, or I’m gonna explode.”

“You could, uh, you could kiss me again. If you wanted to. It’s basically the same thing, right?” Sam says shyly. Dean grins ferally and shrugs.

“Alright then,” He growls, reaching for Sam again.

Sam takes the lead this time though, pinning Dean up against the wall and licking his way into his mouth. He runs his hands over Dean’s arms and chest, feeling out every muscle. Not quite as sharp and defined as his own Dean, but the similarity sends a shiver down his spine. Dean yanks at Sam’s hair, making him moan wantonly. He worries Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth and grinds his hips against him. Dean palms Sam’s ass and pulls him tighter against him.

“That’s it Sammy,” He sighs against Sam’s mouth. 

“No,” Sam pulls away a little, making Dean huff, pissed at the loss of contact, “Just kissing. I don’t want to do anything else unless it’s with my Dean. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, sure, fair enough,” Dean mumbles, diving for Sam’s mouth again without much success.

“Desperate, are we?” Sam growls, shoving Dean back against the wall again, sending a shiver down his spine as Sam captures his mouth in a searing kiss. 

What have I gotten myself into? Dean thinks to himself as he’s manhandled by the huge 6’4” wall of muscle. Sam pushes against him, as if he could go through the wall if Sam pushed hard enough. I wonder what Sam is up to?

Meanwhile…

Sam storms down the hall towards the main room of the bunker. They had waited in front of the door, trying to listen to what was going on in there, but had left the second Dean kissed the other Sam. They aren’t mad at Dean really, it wasn’t his fault. The other Sam just had some questions, but Sam’s not sure how that led to them making out. And sure, the thought of there being another Sam kissing Dean may turn Sam on, just a little, but they couldn’t help their mind from racing, creating random scenarios in their head off all the things Dean and bizzaro Sam could be doing together in that tiny room. Without Sam. They shake their head, trying to banish the image. 

“What are you doing?” Dean’s voice asks him. Sam’s head snaps up at the gruff version of his brother’s soothing voice and their shoulders sag. Of course. Just what Sam needs. Actually… It may be exactly what they need.

“Waiting for my Dean and your Sam to finish up their little pow-wow in the storage room,” Sam huffs. 

“Pow-wow? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Dean barks.

“You tell me.” Sam slumps into one of the chairs.

“I don’t trust that guy anywhere near Sam. Like, a ten-mile radius.”

“You and me both. Knowing him he’d probably not even consider it cheating because we are technically the same person.” Sam sighs, picking at the wooden tabletop.

“Wait, what? Do you think they’re…?”

“No. But I wouldn’t put it past him. Your Sam, on the other hand, they seem… responsible. They won’t let anything happen. Well, anything else.”

“Me too. Dammit. Wait what do you mean anything else?” 

“Nothing,” Sam hums as Dean sits down next to them, running his hand through his short-cropped hair. 

It’s weird, Sam thinks, his hair is exactly the same as Dean’s, just spiked a bit more. Although, that’s probably to be expected. They wonder if they would look like the other Sam if they put their hair down. Putting it up in a bun had just become a habit, growing up hunting, it always getting in their face. But they liked it long, so they didn’t want to cut it, and Dean liked pulling it in bed, which Sam wasn’t ready to give up. He smiles and looks over at Dean. If he just smoothed it down a little…

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Dean asks, pushing their hand away as Sam flattens the awful spikes. 

“Oh don’t be a baby. You look weird like that,” Sam ruffles Dean’s hair, trying to undo the work that the hair gel had done. “There we go…”

“W-why?” Dean asks, already trying to spike it back up. How adorable, Sam muses. He looks the exact same as their Dean now. This is how Sam will get back at him for making out with Sam’s clone.

“Because,” Sam says, swatting his hands away from their handiwork, “I want to make Dean jealous, but I’m not going to do it with you looking like that.”

“Make him jealous? Wait, do wh-- mph!” Dean is shut up immediately by Sam kissing him. They aren’t gentle either. They grab Dean’s face and lick at his lips until Dean finally gets his bearings long enough to shove Sam off of him. “What the hell dude!”

“Go big or go home, right?” Sam says, wiping their mouth with the corner of their sleeve, “And I can’t go home, so I didn’t really have an option now, did I? Plus, I had to give my Dean at least a little something to be jealous about. You know how he gets when he’s jealous. Those are some fun times. Sexy times.”

“Dude gross,” Dean whines, but Sam just laughs. “What was that for, anyway?”

“Well, my Dean is making out with your Sam in the storage closet, and I’m pissed. Case closed.”

“WHAT?! I’m gonna kill him.” Dean leaps to his feet.

“Whoa, easy there tiger,” Sam pulls Dean back down to the chair, “Don’t you think this’ll be a much better way of getting back at them?”

“In what fucking world is making out with bizzaro-Sam be a ‘better way’ of anything?”

“Aw, come on. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” They scoff, tapping Dean’s nose with their index finger.

“I didn’t,” Dean pouts, “I could do way better anyways.”

“Really? And how’s that?”

“Could have you begging on your knees for me, bitch,” Dean purrs, “You wouldn’t even know what hit you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then,” Sam leans in to whisper in Dean’s ear, “Make me beg… Bitch.”

Dean growls and hauls Sam to their feet, slamming them against the wall behind them. He dives into Sam’s mouth, nipping and sucking and licking, making Sam’s knees weak, true to his word. Sam moans as Dean’s thigh slides between their legs, pressing up against his crotch. Their legs buckle as Dean presses his leg further into Sam, pulling at their hair, kneading at their chest, before Dean ducks his head, pulling Sam’s scarf away, and starts sucking bruises against Sam’s throat. He reaches up, pulling the hair-tie out of their hair, making it spill down their face. 

Oh, Sam realizes, this is about the other Sam. He doesn’t give a shit about me. Dean keeps assaulting their neck for a few seconds before going back to Sam’s lips, making them whimper against Dean’s mouth at how sensitive and bruised their lips felt. Well, might as well give him what he wants, right? Sam lets Dean manhandle them, pushing and pulling and biting, until they realize that Dean is the only one really doing anything. Sam should probably reciprocate a little more. So they put all their attention towards Dean’s mouth, trying their best to keep up with the brutal pace Dean had set. Dean moves down to Sam’s jaw again, giving them a second to breathe, so Sam takes the opportunity. 

“Mmm,” Sam hums, “Yeah, c’mon big brother…”

Dean freezes, and pulls away. Sam whimpers a little at the loss, but is mostly just confused. Normally that turns Dean as hard as diamonds when they say that, so they aren’t sure what the sudden upset is about.

“Sorry, uh, I, well, I don’t…” Dean stumbles over his words, taking a step back from Sam. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam questions gently.

“Nothing. That was, ahem, great. But you, uh, you aren’t--”

“I’m not him?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sam smiles sadly, “I get it.”

“You do?” Dean asks incredulously.

“Of course. Here, let’s sit,” Sam goes back over to the table, sitting down, trying to calm their body down after the vicious make-out session. “You have to understand, I’ve been wanting him since I was thirteen. I understand what it’s like trying to find a replacement. And yeah, maybe you can fill that hole for a moment, but it doesn’t last. I think you already know that though. And I think that’s why you’re still here with Sam, and not with a girl. Or a guy. What’s holding you back? He probably wants it just as bad.”

“I know he does.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I just…” Dean sighs and slumps into the chair. “I don’t really know, honestly. I used to say it was the whole incest thing. Because, you know, yuck. But I think that’s just an excuse. I, shit, this is gonna sound so girly… I just don’t want him to leave. I’m gonna mess up, I know I am, and he’s kinda got a history with leaving when I do and… I can’t take that. Not now. We’ve been through so much and--”

“You think he’s gonna leave? If you two've been through as much as you say, then how is there even an inkling of doubt in your mind? Also, if you mess up? Didn’t he start the apocalypse? Like, twice?”

“Wha-- How did you--”

“I read your diary, but that’s neither here nor there. What I’m saying is, just go for it. Trust me. It’ll all work out for the better.”

“Wait--”

“Sammy!” Dean’s voice comes booming from the hall, cutting off other-Dean’s unfinished question, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there!” Sam calls back. “Well, better go see if he gets jealous or not. Think about what I said, okay?”

Sam wraps their scarf back around their neck as Dean nods dumbly. They put their hair back up in a bun, but they aren’t sure why. Dean will notice. But that was kind of the whole point. Sam smirks as they saunter off in the direction of their brother's voice.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean is a little pissed. He shouldn’t be, he knows that. After all, he himself was ravaged by Sam’s clone. Judging by the bruises on his Sam’s neck, the Dean clone was just as rough. Well, maybe not quite as rough. Knowing himself, he knows how much he hates hurting Sam, even if they’re begging for it. He’d much rather torture his lover with pleasure. But still, he can’t help feeling the green monster rear its head as he eyes the marks on Sam, their messed up hair, and not to mention their blood-plump lips. Although that turns him on more than he cares to admit.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks as Dean adjusts their scarf.

“Nothing. Your scarf was all askew.” That was a lie, Dean was just trying to see the extent of the damage his stupid clone did. “I’m also thinking.”

“That’s never good,” Sam laughs, “What are you thinking about?”

Well… Those two. They obviously are into each other, if our very existence is anything to go by. And, well, look at us. Those two are so desperate for it they don’t care if we’re just clones.”

“I beg to differ. Your clone stopped. He said he only wanted his Sam.”

“Yeah, so did the other Sam. He said that he didn’t want to go further than just kissing,” Dean doesn’t mention that he probably would have gone along with it anyway, had the other Sam wanted to. “Anyhow, the point is that they are so head-over-heels for each other they can’t see past their insecurities to understand that they need to be together.”

“No kidding, I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people more self-oppressed,” Sam sighs. They take out their bun again, trying to redo it. They hadn’t gotten it right the first time and it was bothering them. 

“So what do we do?” Dean asks. Sam looks at him and smiles sadly.

“Nothing.”

“What? But they’re so unhappy!”

“It’s not our place,” Sam replies, “and be honest, if someone had told us that we were meant to be before we got together, would you give it a second thought?”

“If they were our freaking clones? Yes! That would be weird enough for me to be having second thoughts!” Dean exclaims.

“I guess they’ve seen weirder,” Sam chuckles. Dean huffs, going over to their car. It was still in the same room they had appeared in, and they still had yet to figure out exactly how to get it out of the room. Dean had wanted to just knock out the walls, but their clones had both yelled a big fat ‘no’ simultaneously, so that option was out of the picture. 

“I guess,” Dean sulks as he gathers all the clothes they stole and loads them into the car. They need to fit in somehow, and taking their doppelganger’s clothes didn’t seem like that big of a crime. But really Dean was most happy to see that at least their two worlds’ currency was the same. The only difference is that the USD isn’t the standard all over the globe like it was back home.

“Come on, buck up. They’ll work it out,” Sam tries to reassure him.

“Yeah. Maybe…” Dean seriously doubts that. If their own Winchester stubbornness is enough to go by, these guys are probably the same, if not ten-fold. 

“In the meantime,” Sam purrs, leaning against the car, “We’ve still got a while before they kick us out completely, right? Let’s make a little noise.”

“Mmm, okay. That make-out session did get me a little hot under the collar,” Dean agrees, leaning into Sam.

“C’mon Dean, I want you to mark me up. Cover what the other guy left…” Sam’s sentence fades into a hum as Dean starts kissing a bruise into Sam’s pretty tanned neck. 

Sam’s hands come up, fingers tracing their way up Dean’s back and shoulders, making him shiver. Their nails graze across his neck and scalp, making his moan and press against his lover harder.

“Mmmm, yeah Sammy,” He mumbles wetly against their neck, “So much better. You know what I like, don’t you baby? Yeah, c’mon… Mn, Sammy…”

Sam gasps as Dean’s hand grips in the back of his hair, yanking just this side of rough. They follow, letting their head be tipped back by Dean, letting him at their neck. Dean rips away the scarf, grumbling something about how stupid the damn thing is anyway. He kisses his way up Sam’s neck, until he hits their jaw, sucking a few marks there just for good measure. When he finally reaches Sam’s lips, they moan, letting Dean in almost immediately to explore their mouth. Sam bucks their hips, grinding up into Dean, making him whimper and push back. 

“C-C’mon De… Just really quick… Please…” Sam begs, “We could get off really quick, before they notice…”

“Oh yeah?” Dean growls back, “Are you sure you don’t wanna go get off with that other Dean? He’s got more muscle. He could probably treat you better.”

“No! No one else De, I just want you. Only you. Please!” Sam shouts as Dean grips at the tent in Sam’s pants.

“Same here Sammy. Only you-- Only you could make me this happy, baby. Wanna come for me? Can you Sammy? With me just touching you through your clothes? Wanna come for your big brother?”

“Y-yeahhh, oh god, De,” Sam’s mouth goes slack as Dean rubs his palm up and down Sam’s length through their pants. “Please, I’ll be so good for you.”

“That’s it baby. Beg for it...”

“Ugn! D-Dean!” Sam shouts. Dean leans in for a kiss, swallowing Sam’s moans as warm wet spreads against Dean’s palm that’s being held against Sam. They pulse out their release and their knees start to buckle as Dean starts to gently rub at the sensitivity.

“Mmm, thanks,” Sam slurs. They start undoing Dean’s belt, but he puts his hands over Sam’s, shaking his head.

“No Sammy.”

“Why not?” Sam looks up at him, Their sated eyes wide and questioning.

“It’ll take too long,” He teases with a smirk. Sam rolls their eyes, but Dean knows he’s right. Sam was always fairly easy to get off quickly with a little bit of dirty talk, but they had a crazy short refractory period, which made for long nights when they got time alone. However, the last thing Dean needed right now was a never-ending loop of orgasms. They did have to leave soon after all.

“Rain check?” Dean asks, already moving towards the door. 

“Whatever, jerk,” Sam chuckles. “Your loss.”

“Oh, I know.” Dean drawls with a quick wink as he closes the door behind him, lending Sam a little privacy. He chuckles at the closed door and turns around, bumping into his clone.

“Could you two be any louder?!” The other Dean hisses at him. Dean just shrugs.

“Listen, I get that you’re jealous of our hot steamy incest sex--”

“GOD! Don’t say that out loud!”

“--but, just let us enjoy it man. You’re kicking us out, the least you could do is let us do the do, you feel me?”

“Dammit,” Dean’s doppelganger says, “No. You’ve already fucked up mine and Sam’s dynamic enough. The last thing I need is for him to hear you guys ‘doing the do’ right down the hall.”

“Hm. Don’t you think that’d be kind of hot, though?”

“Fucking--” Dean’s clone gets cut off by Sam emerging from the room.

“Oh,” Sam nods at the other Dean, who becomes flustered instantly, “I think it would be. Shall we test it out?”

“Wha-- No! What is happening?! You two need to get the fuck out of my home!” Dena’s clone yells at the both of them. Sam and Dean share a look. Dean nods and takes off down the hallway, duffel bags looped over his shoulders. Sam wants some time alone with Dean’s clone? Fine. But no one is stopping him from watching from afar.

“Come on, don’t tell me you two are still dancing around each other?” Sam sighs. They cross their arms and cock their hips in a very appealing way.

“It’s not like that,” Dean mutters, blushing and looking away, “It’s just… I want the timing to be right, you know?”

“There’s no such thing as the right time. Believe me.”

“No, after we defeat--”

“Defeat what?” Sam interrupts, “The next hunt? The big bad? God? What are we talking about here?”

“Everything, okay? Everything. I want-- I wanna have Sammy be safe. I don’t want to be fearing for our lives every second of every day. And being, well, together, on top of what we already are to each other… I can’t lose him already. And I can’t do- that- just to lose it again.” Dean finishes with a huff. Sam smiles kindly and cups Dean’s face in their hands.

“That feeling? Dean, it never ends. I’m always afraid of-- well, you know. But the thing is, if you don’t take that opportunity now, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. And now that you know Sam feels the same, what’s stopping you? The taboo of it? Look at what you do for a living idiot! Now go out and get that boy, Romeo,” Sam laughs. They bend down to kiss Dean briefly, smiling at his surprise. 

“We’ll get out of your hair,” Sam says quietly, stepping away from Dean. They turn away and start down the hallway that their Dean had disappeared down moments before, slapping the other Dean’s ass before leaving. As Sam saunters over, Dean reveals his hiding spot around the corner of the hall. 

“That was kinda hot,” Dean hums. Sam slaps his arm and scoffs. 

They get their stuff together, being led out by Dean 2.0. Dean was a little disappointed that he wouldn’t get to talk to the other Sam again. It was interesting getting to know this other Sam. They were so different. But, although it was all manner of awesome, and a little bit hot, to have clones, Dean was actually pretty relieved to leave those two to their own devices. He had suggested staying there with them (“like a club,” as Sam had put it), but Dean’s clone wasn’t impressed by the ingenious suggestion. Dean had tried to clear the air by mentioning the car, which was clearly loved by the other Dean, but after telling him that they had “drove” in it (the other meaning probably very clear to Dean’s clone), Dean got the hell out of there. He really hoped that they could bond over the beautiful machine, but decided against it as he saw his own mirrored face fill with rage and protectiveness. He shoves Sam up the steps, ignoring his complaints about him being too rough.

“What was that for?” Sam whined as Dean closed the door behind them.

“Believe me, it was for the best that we got outta there ASAP.”

“Wait, do you think he--”

“Knows about the car? The way we left it? The mess? Yeah, probably not, but I don’t want to be around when he does,” Dean hops into the much less impressive, stolen car that the other Sam had stolen for them, throwing the duffels in the backseat.

“Right. So. Where to?” Sam asks as they stuff their gigantor body into the little sports car. 

“Dunno,” Dean says as he starts up the engine, “Where do you wanna go?”

“Well, not Brazil,” Sam laughs. 

“Yeah. Maybe we should try to look for dad?”

“That certainly sounds like an option.”

“Okay then,” Dean huffs, “But can we make one stop first?”

“Sure,” Sam eyes Dean suspiciously, “Where are we going?”

“Cali. I’m feeling the beach. You?” Dean looks over to Sam, who has a massive grin on their face. They shift around in their seat and sling and arm over the back of Dean’s seat.

“Okay. California it is.”


End file.
